"I mean, I haven't really seen you two together, so I can't vouch for what you're like when you're around him..." Frisk taps the notebook the poem is written on, smiling mischievously, "but if it's as bad as you make it out to be, then any gossipmonger worth their salt would spot your little crush in an instant. Plus anybody with half a brain and decent critical thinking skills that reads this could probably put it together."

They hand the notebook back to Marinette discretely. "Now, I'm guessing you get all tongue-tied whenever you talk to him because you can't stop worrying about what if he finds out and rejects you and your mind goes to all sorts of dark places and/or super happy fluffy fantasies when it should be focusing on not making a complete fool out of yourself. Am I right?"